


How to Cure the Common Cold

by monsieurkittentoes



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Background Space Husbands, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Plant gifting, Platonic Cuddling, Secret gift giver, Sick Character, Soup, Southernisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 14:21:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6960547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monsieurkittentoes/pseuds/monsieurkittentoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bones gets a cold, so Jim shows up to help nurse him back to health with soup and love. Later, Bones gets even.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Cure the Common Cold

“Knock knock! Can I come in?”

From under his pile of blankets, Leonard McCoy's head appeared to peer out into the world reproachfully. “You're not allowed to say that if you're already inside the room,” came his southern drawl. His accent seemed to have increased in intensity, paired with the stuffy sound of a clogged nose. “And no, you can't come in.”

Jim smiled at his best friend, walking over to his bedside with the tray still held tightly in his hands. “I brought you soup,” he said. “Real soup, not that replicated stuff. Chapel helped me make it. It's warm chicken broth for your sinuses with vegetables and a little chicken for your vitamins. Oh, and lots of garlic. Chapel said that garlic is good for inflammation.”

The blue eyes continued to stare at Jim for a moment before Bones finally sighed. “Alright,” he said grouchily. “But only because Chapel made sure you didn't burn it.” He shifted a little and sat up in bed, carefully propping himself on his pillows. Seeing him more properly, Jim could tell Bones's cold hadn't gotten any better. His eyes were pink, his nose runny, and his face pale. He looked every bit the victim of medicine's biggest enemy: the common cold.

Yesterday morning, Bones had shown up on shift with a bad cough and shakes. Nurse Chapel had managed to sneak a scan of his vitals while the CMO wasn't looking, and immediately diagnosed him with a cold. And since for all its advancements medicine still couldn't cure a cold, she had then forced Bones to take the next few days off so he wouldn't infect their patients. Which, from the report Jim had received, was no easy task. Jim really admired Chapel, and her ability to deal with Bones at his grouchiest was one of the many reasons he did.

Still, today has been a very long day for Jim. He could have used Bones's advice for some of the strange diplomatic problems he had faced today. He loved Spock with all his heart, but he only ever came at things from the logical angle. The CMO's headstrong compassion and knowledge of Jim as a person made him one of Jim's most valued advisers. Not having him around to help felt to Jim a little like going around with one eye covered and pretending his depth perception wasn't a little off-kilter.

Perching next to the doctor's legs, Jim put the tray on Bones's lap and settled in to make sure he ate all of it.

Bones gave him a suspicious look as he picked up the spoon. “Are you babysitting me now?” he grumbled. He started poking around, investigating the vegetables. Probably making sure they'd actually given him healthy food and not just potatoes and corn.

“I thought you might want some company,” said Jim with a smile. “You don't have to turn all those over. I've heard your endless rant on corn. Most of those are leafy green things.” Terrible things, in Jim's opinion, but he wasn't going to be the one who had to eat it.

Bones took a bite of soup, apparently satisfied that Jim wasn't trying to sneak him an entire chocolate cake under all the spinach and carrots. He seemed to think about it for a moment, then he took another bite.

“Do you like it?” asked Jim.

“Hmph.”

Jim smiled again. That was good enough for him. “I'm glad to see you've finally been resting. Did Chapel cut off your PADD from the main computer, or did you finally decide to acknowledge you're sick?”

“I'll have you know I acknowledged it this morning,” Bones replied as he stirred his broth. “Couldn't avoid it anymore.”

“What put you over the edge?”

“I threw up in the shower.”

Jim wrinkled his nose. “Are you okay?” he asked, putting a hand on Bones's knee.

Bones nodded. “I'll live,” he told him. “Won't be a peach picnic for a while, but I've had worse and God hasn't taken me home to visit dear old Pop yet.”

“What's a peach picnic?”

“It's a picnic in May after they start harvesting the peaches, ya damn varmint.” Bones shook his head. “You'd think I was speakin' Romulan.”

“Did you just call me a _varmint?_ ” Jim laughed.

“Don't you start with me, youngin',” said Bones, pointing his spoon at Jim threateningly. “Once I'm back on my feet I'll make your life a living hell.”

That just made Jim laugh more.

A comfortable silence passed for a few minutes while Bones made quick work of the soup and Jim enjoyed the company of his best friend. When Bones was finished eating, he put the tray on his bedside table and sat back on his pillows.

“I oughta thank you, Jim,” he said as he nestled in. “I haven't had much to eat, what with bein' sick this morning, and that soup was just what my body needed.”

Jim shook his head, waving the statement away with a hand. “It was no trouble, really. I wanted to make sure you were being taken care of, that's all.”

“Come now.” Bones raised an eyebrow. “You're tellin' me that you got Chapel to help you make a soup with vegetables that would help me get better, and it was no trouble? Sounds like trouble to me.”

“That's exactly what I'm telling you.” Jim smiled as Bones rolled his eyes.

“You are too generous, Jim Kirk. It's going to get you killed someday.”

Jim just patted his knee one more time before climbing over his legs and trying to wedge between between Bones and the wall next to his bed.

“What the damn hell do you think you're doing?” said Bones grumpily. But he made no move to stop Jim as his friend squished his way into the gap and wrapped his arms around Bones. Instead, he just gave a loud sigh. “We're doing this now, are we?”

“They say cuddling is the best medicine,” Jim said decisively.

“That's laughter,” Bones corrected. “And it's not accurate then either. The majority of nasty infections and diseases can be treated with antibiotics.”

“Isn't there scientific evidence for physical touch helping with healing?” replied Jim, already prepared for this argument. “Chapel said you were having chills anyway. I'm lending you my body heat.”

Bones sighed. “I have never had someone so _intent_ on getting me to cuddle them since Joanna was a littlin'. When I'm damn sick, too. If I cough on you, you're gonna get this after me.”

“I'll be fine. I have a great immune system.” Jim put his head on Bones's chest comfortably and settled in to just stay a while. “It's you we have to worry about right now,” he continued after a moment's silence. “I miss you showing up on the bridge to advise me when you're supposed to be doing your own job.”

“I wouldn't have to come to the bridge if _you_ would do _your_ job,” said Bones without missing a beat. “And it's been barely a day. You've got your boyfriend to talk to you, you don't need me around all the time. As a matter of fact, shouldn't you be curling up with Spock right now and leaving me alone to die?”

“He's in the labs tonight,” said Jim with a shrug. “If he wants me, he'll come get me.”

Bones sighed again. “What about your supper?”

“Ate it.” Jim tilted his head up to smile at Bones. “You're not getting rid of me. I'm here to make sure you're well loved and fed for the rest of the night.”

This got another, louder sigh out of Bones. “Fine,” he said, resigned to his fate now. “But I still think you should go to your own quarters later to get some rest. I don't want you sleeping in my germs.”

“Deal,” Jim agreed, and settled in again.

But as their conversation began to slow and both persons felt the exhaustion of their bodies dragging them down, Jim found himself incapable of keeping his promise.

Still, Jim thought to himself in the few seconds he had before he passed out, it's not like Bones wouldn't have plenty of time to yell at him about that in the morning.

 

* * *

 

It was a few weeks later when Jim found the beautiful potted flower on the desk in his quarters. The blooms were large, vibrant purple things in an interesting bell shape that curled and uncurled every few seconds in a way that reminded the viewer of breathing. Jim's first assumption was to thank Spock for it, but when he spoke to the Vulcan, Spock explained that he had not been the person to leave it in his quarters. Then Jim began the long and involved process of trying to discover who the giver of the flower was. Which was quickly becoming a mystery when Sulu and Uhura also denied giving the Captain the plant.

Leonard was working with Scotty and Spock on a little recreational, off-hours project to enhance the nutritional value of the replicators without sacrificing the taste – or _“what little taste they have already”_ according to Scotty – when Jim showed up with his potted plant in hand.

“Hello gentlemen,” said Jim.

“Captain,” replied Spock as the other two chorused their hellos. “Do you require something from us?”

“Just a question.” Jim held up the plant. “Scotty, did you put this on my desk?”

Scotty blinked at Jim, apparently surprised by the question. “Auch, no sir,” he replied. “I think Mr. Sulu would have me taken apart and sold for scrap if I took one of his plants without permission.”

“Hm.” Jim frowned and looked at Leonard. “Did you?”

Leonard fixed him with a look. “Why would I get you a plant?”

Jim smirked a little. “Point taken,” he said. He looked at the flower for a moment thoughtfully. “Well, that's everyone I thought of. Chekov says he didn't do it.”

“Have you considered any of the ensigns?” Spock suggested. “Some of them have given you gifts on your Earth holiday called Valentine's Day. Perhaps it was one of them.”

“Maybe,” Jim conceded. “I'll ask around a little more before I give up. Thank you gentlemen. As you were.” He smiled at them and left the lab.

Scott chuckled as the door shut behind the Captain. “He's dedicated, I'll give him that.”

“He asked Sulu already, then?” said Leonard, watching Spock for a reaction carefully.

Spock nodded. “He did. Sulu insisted he was not the culprit.”

Before they could continue talking, the wall comm chimed.

_“Engineering to Mr. Scott,”_ came Lieutenant Albaf's voice. Albaf was one of the engineers on beta shift that Scotty spoke of more highly. She was an intelligent, quiet woman who learned fast and complained little.

Scotty huffed, and grumbled under his breath the whole way to the comm. “Scott here,” he replied in his usual business tone.

_“Sorry to bother you when you're off shift, sir, but Zellweger just managed to set the set all the environmental controls on Deck Three to high desert,”_ said Albaf. _“We thought you'd like to look at it before the Captain has to hear about it and Zellweger gets written up.”_

“I can't leave ye alone for ten minutes,” said Scotty, shaking his head. “I'll be down in a minute. Don't let Zellweger get his hands on the warp core or I'll have ter replace that too. Scott out.” He closed the transmission and turned back to Leonard and Spock. “Sorry, gents. I've got ter fix Zellweger's mess a'fore that entire deck gets heatstroke.”

“Go right ahead,” said Leonard, noticing how Spock inclined his head beside him. “I don't want Dr. Watson to be swamped while I'm off shift and can't help him out. We can finish this tomorrow.”

“Thank ye, lads.” Scotty left then, leaving Spock and Leonard alone.

Leonard glanced at the half-disassembled replicator laid out before him with a certain level of distrust. “I should go too,” he said to the room in general, even though Spock was the only one still there. “I don't know the first thing about what to do with this now it's all taken apart, so I should go get myself some supper. I'll see you later, Spock.”

He was just turning to leave when Spock decided to talk to him instead. Using his _tone_. The one that he only used when he was being smug.

“It was exceptionally kind of you to leave the plant in Jim's quarters.”

Leonard stopped walking, staring at the door longingly for a moment. He turned back to Spock, expression a calculated skeptical. “I've no idea what you're talking about, Spock,” he said slowly.

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him, and Leonard found himself thinking something he hadn't thought since he was eleven years old and his Mema found him sneaking an injured baby bird into the house in her favorite sweater.

_Busted._

“I am quite certain that you do.” Spock stood up a bit straighter and put his hands behind his back, standing at parade rest. Leonard could feel the lecture building. “The Captain was present when you were ill, correct? He informed me he was planning to make you soup. When he called to thank me for the plant, it was not difficult to conclude who would have the motivation to leave him such a gift.”

Leonard stared at him for a second, then shrugged. “He's a good friend,” he said. “I figured I should try and return the favor.”

“Why did you not simply inform him it was you?” asked Spock.

“And watch him try to get me somethin' even nicer?” Leonard shook his head. “It was better this way for everyone. He gets his damn present, I get even, the ship isn't subjected to some kind of gift giving competition.”

If Leonard didn't know any better, he'd think Spock was laughing at him. “Most logical.”

“Don't give me that,” said Leonard, scowling. “It's not like you've never dropped off a present with no note. Or did that antique book of poetry Jim found on his bed three months ago hitch a ride on a tribble?”

After a moment's hesitation, Spock inclined his head. “You make a valid point.”

“Hell yeah I do. Now, I'm gonna go get myself somethin' to eat.” Leonard turned away again, but Spock called him back one more time.

“How did you convince Mr. Sulu to allow you to take one of his prized flowers?” asked Spock. “He is generally quite protective of the various flora the ship supports.”

Leonard pursed his lips. “I might've promised I'll check on it for him occasionally and make sure Jim's doing right by it.”

Spock looked extremely amused by that. “Most logical indeed.” Yeah, he was definitely laughing at him.

Leonard rolled his eyes and left the lab. He was nearing the mess hall when he ran into Jim again, still carrying the damn pot.

“Hey,” said Jim, his face lighting into a smile when he saw Leonard. “Are you going to get dinner? I'll come with you.”

Leonard nodded and let Jim follow him into the mess hall. “You figure out who gave you that yet?” he asked, pointing at the bright blooms. It really was a beautiful plant. He could see why Sulu was so hesitant to part with it.

Jim shook his head with a sigh. “It might just stay a mystery forever,” he said, looking at the flower like it was some kind of poetic anomaly. But he smiled again as he and Leonard picked out cards for the replicators. “I'm glad to see you feeling so much better. Working on a project like that with Spock and Scotty is a good sign to me that my CMO is operating at full capacity again.”

“Seems like it,” Leonard agreed. He examined a card for peach cobbler, trying to weigh the deliciousness versus the damage it would do to his hips.

“I like to think my soup had something to do with that,” Jim said, getting a boyish smirk on his face as if he was executing a very funny practical joke.

“Maybe.”

Jim smirked at him as he placed his potted friend on a table so his hands would be free. “Someday you'll learn how to thank people properly.”

“Don't count on it,” replied Leonard.

Jim laughed, putting his hand on the small of his friend's back as they walked over to get their food.

Behind them the vibrant purple flowers kept curling and uncurling, as if breathing slowly in and out.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This goes out to Jordan, who let me question her about what Bones would do if he was sick when she was very tired.


End file.
